The Noble Daughter

Prologue: Reina Nakou

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Reina Nakou, was a mystery to almost everyone who worked with her at the CCG. Her lively—almost childish manners—seemed to drive everyone away from her. And it didn't help that the way she dressed wasn't in any way modest.

Her lilac hair swayed behind her, her eyes glued in front of her. She wore black button up leaving the first two open revealing a bit of her cleavage. A tight blazer that accentuated her big bust, and a tight fitting skirt that hugged her curves. Her 3'' high heels clicked against the concrete floors, manicured nails raking through her hair.

People around the building mumbled about how provocative she was. Her name rolled off their tongue with distaste, rumors of her seducing the higher ups led to her promotion to become a Rank 1 Investigator. They rumored her to be a dumb bimbo who had no skill on the field, but was kept because she was a good fuck once in a while.

"It's a shame, she's got the body—but that's all she's got." They'd pity her.

Not once did they ever seek her out either, not unless some horny co-worker of hers tried to seduce her into bed. She'd always reject every advance,

"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"So you only whore yourself out with men with money? Just say you're a prostitute. How much is a night with someone like you?" He tried to negotiate with her, not noting her body language.

She was irritated to say the least, her eyes screwed shut as she sighed,

"Look, I'm not a prostitute—and I already told you I'm not interested. So, please, leave me alone." She argued, fists balled up ready to strike the bastard.

She left him outside the street as she walked herself home that night. Occurrences like these were becoming the new normal for her. It also didn't help that she was in the Quinx Squad.

The Quinx Squad made up of five other people (not including herself) were treated like a joke with little to no respect for them. It even tore the reputation of Investigator Akira Mado, daughter of Kureo Mado—a renowned Ghoul Investigator in the 20th ward. 

She was a blonde girl with deep purple eyes, and always acted professional no matter the circumstance. It's what she was known and respected for in the CCG.

Walking back out the building she called the first person that came to mind.

"Hey, Haise. Where are you?"

"By the Main Office with Mutsuki, but we've got bigger issues to deal with-" He sounded out of breath, the sound of wind prevalent in the audio feedback.

"Oh I just passed by there— hey wait I see you. Hold on, I'll come to you." She hung up quickly and ran towards the duo.

"What's wrong—and why are you both so out of breath?" She asked confusedly as she watched them gasp for air.

"Urie and Shirazu are probably pursuing a ghoul without notice." Mutsuki huffed.

"You mean the Torso case? Everyone's been talking about it—specifically Shimoguchi Squad since it's their case-" she was interrupted by a yell,

"You knew and didn't report this-"

"How was I supposed to know they were gonna pursue this fucking guy?! Ugh let's go, you've already read the details, haven't you?"

They nodded at her question and made a run for it.

"Those fucking idiots." She mumbled under her breath as the now trio grew closer and closer to the scene in front of them.

The idiots let their guard down after seemingly "defeating" the ghoul they were attacking which left an opening for the old ghoul to attack those two boys behind their backs. But before his kagune cut through their flesh it was stopped by a quinque making it rebound back to the owner.

"You fucking idiots can't even kill a ghoul correctly and you wanna do missions together." She sighed in disappointment while Haise only looked back at them and lightly scolded them.

"Never let your guard down," he said.

"Investigator Sasaki..." the monotone boy lulled out.

The sharp toothed boy only blanched seeing both of his mentors there; one looking upset and distressed and the other disappointed.

"I'll finish him off." Urie claimed more than offered to do so.

"No. 'The infliction of unnecessary pain against ghouls is strictly prohibited.' It's in the Ghoul Countermeasures Handbook. He could provide us information."  Haise remarked.

"But more importantly I said not to act alone." He warned them.

"But I'm with Urie." Shirazu started.

"He's right." Urie agreed.

"Don't be cute with us now, boy. Don't you know how dangerous it is to act alone?! For fucks sake you're injured." She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose, her patience wearing thin as she pointed a finger in his direction warning him about his behavior.

"But we got results, didn't we?" He mocked them as he took his headphones out blocking their comments.

"Even if we gotten wounded, we would've regenerated eventually."  The monotone boy defended their actions mumbling a little 'takes a bit longer for me but...' under his breath as he walked away.

"If we keep following article thirteen we'll never get rid of ghouls." 

Getting tired of his shitty attitude she walked up to him grabbing him by the shoulder and slapped him. Everyone stood surprised, including the boy. His cheek stood red, a small cut from her nails led to small dribbles of blood flowing down his face from the small cut.

They'd never seen the kind, patient, and childish mannered woman become so serious and fueled by anger before—up until now.

"Get your act together before you regret your actions, idiot." She warned him.

"Let's clean this mess up..."

"That's 902 for squad leader Urie and 850 for Yonebayashi. 920 for Shirazu and 655 for Mutsuki." The doctor spoke as he handed the results to both Haise and Reina.

"Urie and Shirazu have RC factors on the higher side, since they've been using their abilities." He mentioned.

"I think they're using their kagune outside our supervision, should we stop them?" Haise asked worriedly.

"Tell them I said not to have too much fun, after all the quinxes are still a research project in progress..."

"But on the other hand Mutsuki's levels are basically the same as a normal humans. It goes against the original Quinx plan of utilizing ghoul characteristics." He finished.

"Makes sense as to why his progress in training hasn't improved much. He's still weak and slow." She muttered under her breath.

"And he can't control is kakugan. It's activated all the time."

"...well it's better than having no control and high RC levels. Too many RC cells and like a ghoul—he might not be able to eat normally."

…

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"It's alright. Oh we should get going, we have a meeting in a few." Haise waved off awkwardly.

"Alright. Oh and... Investigator Yonebayashi is a bit on the heavy side... tell her to watch herself." He concluded.

Both mentors said their thanks and walked to the exit.

"Seems the ghoul that Investigator Urie from Mado Squad confronted the other day wasn't Torso. Torso's currently an A rated Ghoul, but because no one has actually encountered him in battle, his rank is unknown."

"Maybe it's better they didn't encounter him." Mado said.

"In any case, we're on the Torso case. The Mado Squad needs to their own case." Someone on the Shimoguchi Squad barked out.

"That reminds me... I understand that the Quinxes followed up a tip about a possible Ghouls sighting. Something about growls... what did they find?" A different member of the squad snickered out with a cocky raised eyebrow.

"Stray dogs?! That's what the Quinxes do? They find dogs?!" They bursted out cackling.

Both mentors sat awkwardly watching their fits of laughter and mocking words towards them. Haise could only attempt to laugh with them in hopes to appear less embarrassed about their findings while Reina played neutral and oblivious to their comments.

"Ha-ha... yeah... it was a bit of a let down, but we're glad it wasn't a ghoul." Haise smiled awkwardly.

"Wipe that grin off your face. It seems Investigator Sasaki is something of an idealist..." the squad leader of the torso case  sneered at the way Haise was treating this case so lightly.

"Why wasn't a ghoul of that rating taken care of right then and there? He had no useful information. He's rate B at best."

"Civilian safety is our highest priority. That's what it says in the Ghoul Countermeasures article thirteen. Ghouls need to be dealt with swiftly."

"But clause two says 'the infliction of unnecessary pain against ghouls is strictly prohibited.'" Haise said as a matter of factly only to be turned down.

"I think you're misinterpreting. Clause two doesn't prohibit us from killing ghouls, just causing them 'unnecessary pain.' In other words ghoul investigators are expected to kill them instantly."

His lips puckered up as he continued trying to rile Haise up. Though it wasn't working because the man was too good for everyone, and Reina stayed acting oblivious letting Haise take the fall.

"Or do you sympathize with them... Investigators Sasaki? It's certainly a possibility with you. After all, a ghoul did-" he was interrupted by investigator Mado.

"Investigator Shimoguchi. Training my team is my job. I'll talk to him later." She reassured him.

"Investigator Mado, maybe you're not doing your job well enough. He demanded we hand over our case files the other day. I was shocked—thinking he could just take over our case!"

"Maybe he just got tired of your investigation being conducted at a turtle's pace... and tried to help." 

"What?!"

"Sasaki and I could close that case in ten days. But unfortunately we're busy dealing with Aogiri Tree. Even Sasaki and the Quinxes could get a physical description of Torso in a month."

"You little-"

"Mado, Shumoguchi... that's enough." Take Hirako, leader of the Hilario Squad intervened before the discourse could get more physical.

"The Torso investigation will be handled by both the Shimoguchi Squad and Mado Squad. So please share case files."

The room was silent until Shimoguchi caved in and reluctantly handed over the information.

Mado Squad: 1

Shimoguchi Squad: 0

"Hirako Squad will continue our investigation of the rate ≥S Orochi. That concludes our meeting for today." Hirako ended.

Everyone started gathering their things, all of the Hirako Squad left leaving both the Mado Squad and Shimoguchi Squad alone. Taking this opportunity Shimoguchi spoke up.

"Investigator Mado. A physical description of Torso in a month? I'm looking forward to it." He taunted, obviously thinking they couldn't do it within that 'deadline'.

"Yeah, and when we do, I hope we can look forward to some willing cooperation from your squad in the future." She ended.

"...fine." He said as he left.

A few seconds passed before Haise looked in Mado's direction.

"I'm sorry you had to cover for me, Investigator Mado." He apologized.

"Sasaki." Was all she said before she pulled him by the shoulder and landed a signature punch onto this abdomen.

She looked down at him as he crumbled to the floor by the sheer force of her previous action.

"I don't dislike your gentle temperament, but ditch it when it comes to battles. Your comment on clause two embarrassed me even."

She looked at the other girl who was standing behind Haise.

"As it is that you're already discriminated against more than the Quinxes. Don't defend ghouls. If you want to avoid any more Mado Punches. That kindness... it'll kill you." She turned away.

"We got Investigator Hirako's authorization. Get me a physical description of Torso within a month. I wanna see Shimoguchi's lips quiver in shame. And you," she turned to the lilac haired woman.

"When are you going to apply yourself? You're smarter than you let on, and yet you bring more shame and embarrassment to the Quinx Squad... I expect better from you the next time we meet." She hung her head low as she walked away, heels clicking every step she took until the sound quieted.

...

"Let's get you up. Come on." Reina said as she hauled him up.

He leaned over her shoulder in pain.

"Thanks." He grinned shyly at her.

""Investigators Sa-sa-ki, Re-i-na! Quite a scene in there." Spoke Ito. Another investigator from the Hirako squad.

"Oh, Investigator Ito." Haise acknowledged the man.

"I'll go check up on the rest of the squad, I'll see you at home, Haise. Investigator Ito." She clasped her hands together pushing her breasts together and bowed—taking her leave.

"I'm home!" She yelled once she closed the front door.

"Instructor Nakou? Where's Instructor Sasaki?" Mutsuki asked, his face a bit disappointed to see only her walking up the stairs to the living room.

"He got caught up with Investigator Ito, he'll take a while. Where're the others?" She stretched herself out on the sofa.

"They left to blow off some steam.. I think." He strung off.

"Do you know where they left specifically?" She straightened herself up-right on the couch.

"They wouldn't budge when I asked them." He shook his head in defeat.

"You tried your best, that's what matters most. I'll be in my room if you need me, night, Mutsuki."

"Goodnight, Nakou."

"A physical description of Torso in a month?"

"Yeah."

"A case Shimoguchi Squad is already struggling with in a month?"

"I know I'm asking a lot, but I think it's possible if we all work together. If the quinxes can come together as a group..." Haise remarked.

Shirazu just chuckled out a bit at his words.

"You really are something, Sassan."

"Shirazu..." Reina warned.

"I'm goin' it alone."

"No you're not. Sit your ass back down, kid."

"What's your deal? Got a crush on Sasaki?" Urie countered.

She whipped her head to look at him.

"I don't." She crossed her arms in front of her.

"Sure seems like you do. Always kissing at his feet since you've joined, praising him in every way. Seems like you really like him." He taunted.

She inched closer to the brats' ear. She didn't care for his words, she found them hilarious.

"I don't, but what's it to you? Mad that he's got my attention unlike you? Mad that I'm praising him instead of you? How cute. Maybe it's you who's got a crush on me. You want me to get on my knees and worship you like a god? I can do that."

She peeled herself away from him, fixing her gaze on his face. He was disgusted by her words and upset at what she was trying to imply. She just grinned mischievously and patted his cheek.

"Cheer up, maybe if you put your ego aside and actually thought of someone else other than yourself—you'd earn my attention and respect rather than hearing me berate you like a little puppy."

He just clicked his tongue and brought the conversation back to what it was originally about.

"I'll collar Torso in a month." He started before he made his way out of the meeting room.

Haise tried calling out to him but to no avail, he didn't care. Turning around, Reina looked at Haise's figure and saw him beating himself up for not being able to keep his team together.

"It's not your fault, they're just stubborn." Reina tried to reassure him.

Tooru just looked at them with a worried expression. So far it's only been him and Reina who's been making an effort to actually work together as a team. Everyone else like Saiko, Urie, and Shirazu work alone, or sometimes don't even bother to get up. More than anything, Tooru was losing hope.

"So they insist on acting independently, huh?" Haise started with an ominous tone.

"Fine, I think it's time to show those boys what I'm capable of. The three of us are going to bring in Torso, Mutsuki, and Reina. Before those two do!"

Haise started spewing a lot of things, things she wasn't bothered to really listen to.

"If you're done shouting then maybe we can get started with the actual investigation, Haise." Reina sweatdropped.

"Right. First step: Cochlea."

"Investigator Sasaki. Investigator Mado told me you'd be stopping by." The warden said as he was met with three faces, two of them being more recognizable than the third.

"Why hello, Haisaki." Reina waved at him with a smirk.

"Welcome back, Nakou." He welcomed, his voice void of enthusiasm.

Both Haise and Mutsuki looked between the both of them trying to figure out how they knew each other.

"As I was saying, Cochlea was hit hard when we lost Warden Misaka at the hand of Aogiri Tree. I personally have high hope for the Quinx Squad." Haisaki admitted.

He mumbled a little praise and continued leading us to where we were headed. Mutsuki was a tad bit nervous mainly because they were visiting a prison full of ghouls.

Reina noticed his worrying and hoped that her reassurance would calm him down a bit.

"Hey, don't worry. The walls are made of Quinque steel, and they’re weakened with RC Suppressants.." she scratched her nape.

Sasaki on the other hand just watched the two with a dazed look. There were dark circles under his eyes and small eye-bags that could be seen if you studied his face close enough. She nudged him a bit to wake him up from his little daze and he perked up a bit, seemingly startled for a little until he looked at the girl. She just smiled and nudged her head towards the big door that held who they were scheduled to speak with.

"Well, well, if it isn't Haise and Reina. I was just getting bored." Donato Porpora grinned whilst rubbing his shoulder.

"I'm surprised to see you've sided with the CCG, princess. Hey, where's your commanding investigator, Haise?"

"Akira Mado is on a different case." He put it simply.

"How does it feel to be under the thumb of a female investigator?" The man behind the shatterproof glass asked.

"It doesn't feel so bad when it's the thumb of a brilliant woman. How about you, Father?"

"You brought a new face with you today. Very young and... appetizing." Donato growled out getting as close as he could to Mutsuki with the glass being the only thing separating the two from his bloodlust and insatiable appetite.

Mutsuki could only stare in horror and backed up slowly as he felt himself pale at the SS rated ghoul words. He ended up tripping over his own two feet and fell to the ground looking up at the terrifying Russian ghoul.

"I would like to rip that stomach open at my leisure, and stuff my mouth full of plump organs." Donato’s eyes went wide as he salivated and went on and on about how he'd kill him and eat him up.

"Oh, you! Take it easy on him." Reina scolded the old pastor.

"I apologize." The elder said with a small smile.

"Oh, you! Take it easy on him." Reina scolded the old pastor.

"So... what are you investigating?" Donato asked as if nothing happened moments prior to his question.

"A ghoul that goes by the name Torso." Haise said as he pulled up the information.

The glass separating the prisoner from the investigators then displayed a map of every single crime scene.

"We believe he's using a vehicle to get around since his feeding range is so broad. All victims have been females." Haise explained.

"In addition only their torsos have been taken." Reina added.

The old pastor looked at the girl expectantly to continue. He knew the girl for quite some time, well enough to know that she already knew who the ghoul really was. But she didn't relent.

"I see.. the head is a very important part for a ghoul. Understanding what one is eating enriches the experience. Enjoying the rest while appreciating the face—or perhaps going straight from the head... to each their own." He kept his gaze fixed on the lilac headed girl.

"The head truly is the centerpiece of a meal. It's a single flower as the only garnish to a meal that may seem insipid to humans."

"To show no interest in that flower and to leave it behind—he must either be an awfully picky eater or have a refined palette." Donato put it simply.

Haise was ruminating. He felt as if there was more than just hunger fueling Torso. There was definitely something more and he felt it.

"...or does he feel threatened." Haise began.

"The eyes express emotions—the mouth utters words. A face contains an enormous amount of information. What if he's trying to block all that information... entirely?"

"A ghoul aware of his own powers... afraid of humans.. because-"

"He's blending into human society." The old man finished.

"Concealing his identity as a ghoul... working for a normal business. Most likely some kind of an errand boy. Cleverly fooling everybody around him while being tormented by his boss, the clients... a position that requires familiarity with the streets. For instance a cab driver."

With that everything in Haise's mind went off and memories of Urie submitting hundreds of cab receipts. All along Urie was on the right track, but because of the lack of communication Urie was holding everyone, including himself, back.

"Thank you for the insight, Mr. Porpora." Haise thanked as he left the room leaving Mutsuki and Reina inside.

"Have you told all of them?" Donato asked the girl.

"No." She replied, gathering all the materials left inside.

"When will you?"

"Soon." She hummed.

"C'mon. Let's go, Mutsuki." She waved her hand to signal the boy about their departure.

"Nice seeing you again, Father."

"Instructor Sasaki... why does the CCG keep that man alive?" Mutsuki asked, still spooked and upset between their previous interaction with him.

"When I look into that ghoul's eyes... I'm terrified." He shuddered.

"It's because he's a valuable source of information for the CCG. That's why the Bureau uses him. At least until... and I don't like how this sounds like either, but.. until they get rid of him." He explained the duo trailing behind him.

Though Haise works for the Commission of Counter Ghoul, he doesn't find pleasure or satisfaction in killing them. He's a gentle soul who tried to find the good in almost everyone, even if they are cold blooded convicted killers. He sighed silently in his mind as he looked to his right, Reina walking with a high held head. Meanwhile Mutsuki trailed behind them both with a low strung head.

wc: 3.7k masterlist next chapter

a/n: so that’s the prologue… how we feeling? Honestly idk what I’m doing. I grew bored and this is like the 3rd rendition of this FF. I’m somewhat satisfied with this one enough to post it so bleh. Masterlist has been uploaded!

ps. updates will probably like three posts every month if I’m lucky if not then I’m sorry. Writers block will kick my ass hence why this is the 3rd rendition of the original.

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TILL FOREVER FALLS APART !

summary: when sirius said siblings are off limits, james never thought he would break that rule as his best friend was the only one to have siblings close to their age, but everything seems to change when the sister sirius swore to hate because of her cruelty has several detentions with him and she’s not as cruel as her brother described.

notes: james potter x black!reader. reader is a twin sister of regulus, kinda angsty at the end, hurt/comfort, sirius is kind of an ass. not proofread

you really thought that the detention with james potter would go easy. not a word would be shared, him not even looking at you as he probably know your relationship with his best friend, and then you two would have a week free from each other, but james potter seemed to be interested in you – or more likely, how did you end up in a detention.

he saw you as a perfect black, that’s how sirius would describe you, or your twin brother whenever someone brought up your name. and no matter how positive it sounds, he was always negative, never mentioning your childhood, and how attached you were to him.

the perfect black daughter, more ideal than narcissa or bellatrix, the one who would never obey her elders unlike sirius or andromeda, the one who would do whatever they say to please them.

well, it was partially true, you could give that to him. but you nor regulus weren’t like any other family members. you weren’t brave enough to stand up to your parents and survive the punishment with a smile on your lips like your brother did, you two were two afraid to do anything that could make orion or walburga mad.

but both of you were proud slytherins, with regulus being one of the best quidditch players of your house, and you impressively good at whatever you touched. you were plotting against your parents, the death-eathers and everyone that could get in the way of your plan. an escape plan, to runaway somewhere far like france or canada, while everyone thinks you died. nonetheless, sirius couldn’t know that – he barely spoke to any of you, which just worsened when you were invited to the deatheaters meeting at your house.

in his eyes, you were nothing but a piece of shit like rest of your family for being unable to runaway earlier, for having no one to runaway to, as the rumors about your enjoyment in dark magic spread at school with light speed. however, unlike sirius you had your twin, always ready to stand up for you and vice versa, always ready to fight anyone who says a bad thing about you.

sometimes you and regulus would sneak out of the house and wander around the crowded streets of london, thinking how would your life looked like if you weren’t wizards, if you weren’t born into a family with an obsession of blood status and keeping it pure.

what made you even more perfect in everyone’s eyes was that you looked exactly like a female version of regulus, or more accurately, he looked like a male version of you. wearing the same clothes when you didn’t have to wear robes, and it wasn’t like you planned it – you had a gut feeling to wear your expensive like hell, black coat, and so had he. you looked intimidating, walking next to your brother, evan rosier and other friends of yours with faces that seemed to never experience any emotions. like rocks, untouched by people’s words, stares and pointing fingers.

“how did you end up here?” your companion asked out of sudden, making you shift in your chair. you already finished cleaning the classroom but there was still more than an twenty minutes left, and you couldn’t just leave for whatever reasons. “didn’t expect to see the perfect black sister having time to bother herself with things like detentions.”

“and why does it interest you, potter?” a sigh slipped from between your lips as you rest your chin on the left hand. “so my brother can have more reasons to despise me, because as i presume, you’ll tell him.” you didn’t even let him have a glimpse of your mimic as he could only see your back.

“oh, miss black, who do you think i am?” you heard him get closer, and take a seat by your side, probably briefly looking at the book you’d read. he could swore to merlin, he thought it’d be a book containing black magic spells you would cast if flinch didn’t confiscate your wands. but it was far from dark margic. “i’m just curious, have heard a lot of… things about you and wanted to check myself.”

you fixed your black hair before quickly considering if you should tell him the real reason or the made up one you’d told evan and pandora. “hmm, what would i get from telling you?” you leaned closer to him, revealing your face. it was one of your first encounters with james potter, and hell, you know it wouldn’t be the last one, since there were at least four next weeks of detention together.

“we could figure something out, y’know.” he shrugged, scanning every inch of your flawless skin, starting at your eyebrows and eyes, through lips to chin. you were gorgeous, and james couldn’t blame the first years that sometimes followed you like a lost puppy around the castle, trying to gain your attention or the girls having their lesbians awakening while watching slytherin’s practice with you as a substitute for your brother. every comment he had heard about your immaculate beauty was so real, that he could swore he would develop a crush on you in other circumstances. “just tell me.”

“i stood in my brother’s defense, the one you know better.” you replied, averting your look back to the book you were reading, not really bothering yourself to catch a glimpse of james’ parted mouth as he realized the sense of your words. “any more questions or can i finally focus on my book?”

“why did you- how did you-?”

“as much as some people tries to say, i do care about my family members’ well-beings, even though they refuse to talk to me or my twin.” you let out a little too harsh than you planned. “and no one will say anything bad about my brother unless it’s me or regulus.” you didn’t even wait for his reponse, leaving the classroom as soon as the clock hit nine in the evening.

you could say everything, yet you decided to reveal part of the thing that happened. and you knew that james would, most likely, tell your brother how you tried to gain his attention by making up a story. what you didn’t tell him was the part where you broke lucius malfoy’s nose, completely forgetting how much influence had his father on yours, and how mad they would be.

the next detention went… smoother. james didn’t bother you with questions about elaborating on the reason of your punishment, however it wouldn’t be james potter if he stayed quiet. especially when you didn’t have to clean the classroom again, just sit in silence while mcgonagall watched over you, but unfortunately (for you) she had to leave.

“miss black, didn’t expect you here.” a chuckle left his mouth, sitting himself in front of you, taking in your gorgeous face. “any kid’s dreams of dating you crashed last week?” for a moment, a millisecond, he could see a shadow of smile on your lips, and james potter felt like he already accomplished his mission for today.

“how did you guess?” you rolled your eyes in a playful manner, allowing yourself to look at the boy in front of you. his dark curls fell onto his forehead, and you could swear if it wasn’t for his glasses that somehow kept them out of his eyes’ way, he wouldn’t see a thing.

and you couldn’t know that, but james potter wouldn’t let himself miss such an opportunity to just stare at you for at least few minutes. it was strange, he never wanted to just look at a girl, who wasn’t lily evans and interested in him at the same time. though somehow, you were living free in his mind, making the boy catch himself on staring at you during meals.

“pulled out some prank on snape lately?” you added before he replied, a hand put under your chin as you leaned over the table, watching his every move. his eyes lit up immediately on your visible interest in whatever he had done during the previous week. “not a fan of snape?” james questioned, his eyebrow higher than usually.

“please.” you rolled your eyes again. “is there anyone who’s a fan of snape besides your girlfriend?” you let yourself smile at him for a brief moment, before shifting in your chair.

“evans s’not my girlfriend.” his replied shocked you, you could’ve sworn to yourself you saw them snogging somewhere. not that you cared with whom james was making out. you didn’t care, at all. “rumor has it, you two hook up a lot.”

“i’d throw up over him rather than do anything that involves physical touch. he disgusts me.” you knitted your eyebrows together at the so-called rumor, you already heard from sirius on christmas.

“why? because he’s a half-blood?” the gryffindor seeker blurted out before thinking, causing you to back out from the conversation, a strange feeling of pain raising in your heart. it was something he would regret saying later at night, processing every inch of your talk, realizing that everyone thought you were a pure-blood supremacist, and probably it wasn’t the best thing he could say to you.

“because he’s a misogynistic piece of shit, potter. snape could be a highly born pure-blood wizard, the best one out there, but if he says things like this about your little girlfriend when she’s not there or any female in general, he’s a piece of shit like any of his friends.” your words came out harshly, but you felt disrespected by someone who tried talking to you first.

the rest of the detention you spent in silence while james was explaining something that involved brooms and words snivellus, regret, and some other things you didn’t pay attention to, too busy counting minutes to the end of that cruel meeting.

however, the third and fourth were much more… pleasing, you could say. the boy pulled an expression like if he actually wanted to get to know you on his own and found out what made you silent a week earlier. it almost felt like it was planned, mcgonagall’s presence needed somewhere else, and a bunch of sweets you adored, snatched from the kitchen in a little bag in his hand.

“sorry. for the last time, i said some stupid shit that didn’t mean to come out like that.” he confessed, genuine in his voice was so clear that you couldn’t held back a smile, forming on your lips upon seeing his gesture. “don’t say shit like i didn’t have to. i did. i wanted to apologize, and get to know you.”

“hmm, apologise accepted.” you spoke out softly, offering him a bar of chocolate. “but, mister potter, why do you want to get to know me so bad? thought other people know everything better than me.”

he shifted in his position, getting closer to you, a mischievous smirk spread over his lips. “y’know, miss black, you’re an interesting person, and i can’t get you out of my head, so i had to do something about it.”

the upsides of your immaculate skin was that it tended to get red-ish rapidly, and that comment of his with the flirtatious tone made you burning red. without any shield to cover your face, you broke the eye contact with the gryffindor, and smiled involuntarily, feeding up his ego.

however, it didn’t took you long to look him in the eyes again, continuing the conversation with a smug smile that matched his. “what would you like to know, ask and i’ll answer.”

you awaited questions like how is it to be a death eather, or have you ever thought of killing someone for your parents’ sake, or anything that would make you cringe inside. although, he firstly asked you questions people never remember the answers to — what’s your favorite colour, muggle movie, a book you could recommend him to read in a free time.

“james potter likes contemporary romances?” you laughed, shaking your head at the answer to the last question he gave you. there was no imagine in your head of james potter, the great seeker of gryffindor, reading a contemporary romance book with eagerness and passion. “i’ll like whatever you recommend me, pretty girl.”

“hmm” you dragged out the words, searching for something in your bag. an exclusive, limited edition costing thousands of muggle’s money, of your favorite book – the pride and prejudice by jane austen. there was a brief moment of hesitation, was he just playing around and you would never get it back, or does he really wanna read it? there was something in his eyes that made you trust him prior to handing him the book. “it’s my favorite one.”

“you like classics?” you nodded.

james felt a weird, tingling feeling in his stomach as you clarified it was your favorite one, and now he had it in his hands. he recognized the muggle author, because his mom read a lot of muggle classics and romance in her freetime. it was bizarre to learn you liked muggle book, hardly ever mentioning a wizard one.

for the rest of the third detention you just… talked, ending up with being walked by him to the basement, so the disscusion you had wouldn’t be cut off so suddenly. the fourth one was even better, the best of them as there was no awkwardness between you two, despite the closeness of your bodies. he sat next to you, your arm and leg touching his whenever he leaned closer.

this time, you were the one talking — infuriated by some guys from ravenclaw that had catcalled you a few times on your way to the detention and one had tried to touch you, thinking it was okay to touch anyone without their consent. they were seniors, finishing school in june when you were a fifth-year, frightened by the vision of writing owls in may.

james just nodded his head, not daring to interrupt you even once, maybe in fear of getting hit by your hands that couldn’t stop moving ever since you started your monologue. he just chimmed in a few times saying true and yes, but he was focused on how your eyes flickered with annoyance and anger, making you even prettier.

“are you even listening to me, james?” the way you empathized his name made his stomach do a flip, a whole acrobatic performance. it was one of the first times, or even the first, when you referred to him as james, not potter, not mister potter or anything you’d called him before, james. “yeah, yes, sorry. assholes from ravenclaw, right?”

he walked you to the entrance of slyherin common room for the last time as it was your last detention together for a while, and you smiled at him warmly before disappearing behind the doors. the first thing you saw after stepping into the room was your brother’s interested smile.

“potter walking you here? someone got a crush.” he laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you climbed the stairs up to his dormitory. “sirius would probably kill him if it was true, my dearest little brother.” you replied walking into the room of your brother and his few friends.

“sirius would kill who?” rosier walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waistline, winking at you with a flirtatious smirk. “quit it, evan. she’s my sister.” regulus was faster to reply.

you plopped on evan’s bed as it was the only free one and sighed. “reg thinks a certain gryffindor has a crush on me because he walked me here.”

“twice.”

“okay, yeah. james walked me twice and regulus thinks he has a crush on me for simply being nice, after literally interviewing me.” you mumbled, crossing arms on your chest. “there’s nothing to discuss here, he’s a gryffindor, a potter, it’s just inherited kindness.”

“and why are you so involved in figuring it out, sister?” your brother asked with a smug smile, his eyebrows high up as he thought he found out about your great secret. “do you reciprocate his little crush on you, huh?”

“shut up, asshole.” you rolled your eyes, throwing one of evan’s additional pillows at him. “do i look like a 5’4 ginger with a gryffindor’s scarf hung around my neck?”

“please, if i’ll see you one day in a fucking gryffindor robe, i don’t know who i am going to kill first, your future boyfriend or you for cheating on me, pretty girl.” evan sat beside you, almost immediately throwing his hand over your shoulder, pulling you closer to his still wet-ish chest.

you laughed, making yourself comfortable. unfortunately for regulus (who always wanted to kill any of his friends that tried to hit up on you), you enjoyed your flirtatious relationship with evan. “you think really highly of yourself, mr. rosier, took my first proper make-out and you think you decides on which robes i wear?” you shot back, biting back a playful grin appearing on your face.

“you know what i mean, sweetheart.” prior to regulus gag, you sent your friend a kiss and he pretended to catch it and hide in the depths of his heart. “of course, lovely.”

“please, get the fuck out if you want to be all couple-y here with each other.” andrew, another friend of your brother, groaned with fake annoyance as you sent evan another kiss. “what, andy? you jealous or something?” your friend laughed in an answer.

the next time you saw james was when a guy that tried to harass you, walked into the great hall with ugly, red hair and a robe with a large, inscription above his head “i harassed a younger girl.” he sat at the table across the hall, a mischievous grin spreading over his lips as you were the only person his eyes had focused on.

fifteen minutes later, you met him under the willow tree, a smug rosing on his face when you caught his glance. “miss black!” he called out, waving at you. “did you like what i did? especially for you.”

“it was… funny, you know.” you chuckled, taking a seat next to him as you had around twenty minutes left before anyone that could suspect basically anything would walk out of the castle. “i can give you that.” you mumbled, closing your eyes when your head touched the rough tree limb.

“sooo, you should go out with me as a favor, pretty girl.” he sent you a charming smile that would make your legs weak if you weren’t sitting next to him. “maybe on sunday, watchu think?”

you wanted to disagree, say no to him and explain yourself that your older brother, his best friend at the same time, wouldn’t be fond of this idea, though he looked at you with those alluring, brown eyes of his, and you couldn’t deny. “fine. sunday, it is.”

and that’s how you two began to go out, sneaking around and lying to your brothers that nothing really went on with the two of you. nevertheless, sirius was completely unaware of your little dates as anything had barely changed — james still talking about lily with a picture of you in his mind, and you… still didn’t talk to him. whatsoever, regulus knew about everything by connecting the dots and following the clues you left him unwillingly.

“i’ll kill him, hope you know that.” he spoke out suddenly, when you tried to get to your classroom in time, especially because it was potions and slughorn never tolerated lateness. never if you weren’t his favorite students that he collected like gems, giving them privileges and other additions that were probably against school rules. “huh?”

“potter.” you froze in your tracks for a minute. “if he ever lays a hand on you like our father did on our mother or do anything that upsets you, he’s dead.” a warm smile was painted on your brother’s mouth as he cocked his head to the side.

“what? don’t look at me like that. i’m not dumb as others to not notice the smiles he sends you from across the hall or how you disappear to hang out with julie, when she’s alone in the common room.” he exclaimed, a few laughs left his mouth, when you still frozen, looked at him with horror in the eyes. “i’m happy for you, chill, ugly face.”

“you’re not mad? fuming? furious?” you asked, voice somehow still low when you entered the classroom. “will you try to name all the synonyms for mad? and i’m not, y/n. i’ll leave that for the other brother you have.”

you gave him a quick side hug, before occupying yourself with anything that the teacher said, scolding you for being late, again. however, all you had on your mind was the date, your soon-to-be-boyfriend took you on.

it was the date, you’d say… a surprise one, and with james, they were on the normal basis. he would somehow let you know that there are places you need to be at night and a guide on which type of clothes should you wear (and a few notes saying how good you look during the day). then, he usually awaits you beside the enterance to your common room under the invisibility cloak, waiting to finally be able to kiss you. three nights ago, you two ended up in the pub, drank a few butter beers and met a few people that sixteen and fifteen years old probably shouldn’t met at night, they acted nice though.

however the night when everything went downhilld was the night you were supposed to spend in the library, studying to the upcoming owls that stressed the living shit out of you since the beginning of school year. a cup of coffee standing beside the books to transmutation, your biggest nightmare, dark red stains adding a little life to the white cup that was emptying with every other moment.

you were about to get another sip of the sweet liquid you’d prepared earlier, when it was snatched from your hand while someone planted a sweet kiss on your lips. “hey, love.” his voice so soft, and delicate you almost passed out from the tingling, warm feeling in your abdomen.

love, love, love. you would let someone kill you to hear it one more time.

“jamie, hi.” you tilted your head to the side, smiling at the boy warmly. “that’s the first time i see you in the library, something happened?” he shook his head with the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

james was the only person along regulus that you had never minded having any form of physical touch, as you grew up with the minimum you sometimes got as a reward. with all the other boys that tried to get somewhere near you at the parties it was just weird, having their arms thrown around various parts of your body had never failed to make you uncomfortable, even with evan you couldn’t be fully okay.

but james… you craved it to function like a normal human being. his touch was like oxygen, the feeling of his hands on your waist, hips, hands was… enchanting, making you want to live again. it was like if you were in a romance book, having the full epic, first sight, soulmates love with a twist (your brother’s hatred towards you). was it love? you couldn’t say yet.

“just wanted to spend some time with ya, y’know?” his hand flew to his curls, ruffling it as he lowered his eyes, focusing himself on the books in front of you. “transmutation? the old hag loves me, you could’ve said something.”

“i tried to figure it out on my own, but i barely moved from the starting point…” you let out a low groan, hiding your head in your hands, exhausted. “didn’t want to be a bother, you know.”

“love, i got outstanding from my transmutation owls, it’s like an easy revision for me.” he planted a kiss on her check, before leaning closer and stealing another sip of her coffee. “i’ll get us something to eat and you’ll be first in your classes”

“mkayy, thank you, jamie.”

well. there wasn’t much of studying, if you were honest. when the lights went finally out, your boyfriend put the invisibility cloak on top of you, so ms. prince wouldn’t catch you past the curfew. the minute she closed the library’s door, you felt potter’s lips crashing into yours, one of his hands pulling off fabric of the cloak.

he sat you down on the table, tossing the books aside. his hand gripping your thigh firmly, after sliding it underneath the fabric of your skirt. you could feel the burning marks his touch left on your skin, heated kisses tracing down your neck with hickies almost all over it.

you would probably keep going if it wasn’t for someone that dropped whatever they had in their hands upon seeing you two. before you could notice any characteristics of the person you heard james let out a mumble “oh fuck”.

and then you saw your brother’s face.

oh fuck indeed.

he stormed to you and before james could even react, he was hit by the shoulder of sirius whose eyes were still on your face. “stay the fuck away from my brother.” the way he empathized the word brother made you feel like someone just stabbed you in the back repeatedly. with the moment these words left his mouth, your whole expression changed to the emotionless and blank, the one you gave everyone but your friends.

“sirius…” your boyfriend sighed, his hand, the one that had a grip on your thigh, was now on the oldest boy’s shoulder. “don’t. this is between me and her.”

“stop messing with my friends’ heads. you don’t deserve to be near them, none of them is a fucking deatheather like you or the other one, none of them will ever be, because unlike you two, they’re good.” he spat, eyes burning with fury. “i don’t care how many of your charming smile you had to give him to take the amortentia from you, but it’ll end, sooner or later.”

“you don’t even know me, sirius.” you stated, your tone still and awfully cold as you got off the table and stood in front of your brother. “don’t act like you do, brother.”

“don’t call me that.” he replied, taking your wrist in his hand. “i don’t fucking care that we grew up together, that we share our last names. we’re not siblings since you and regulus joined his forces. so stay the fuck away from james, he doesn’t even love you, the only thing he talks 'bout is evans.”

“does he, really?” you cocked your head to the side, not letting his words influence you, not here. “you know, maybe your so-called brother wouldn’t have to lie to you if you weren’t so obsessed with hatred you have towards me and regulus. maybe he could tell you that he was the one who started bugging the shit out of me, maybe he could tell you how did we even meet.”

you could see sirius flinch, averting his gaze to potter, who tried to get in between you for a moment now. “don’t tell me it’s true, prongs, after what she did to me?”

“what i did to you? you were the one who left, brother, you’re the one who cut us off the second we were sorted to slytherin, you runaway and you’re mad, because i and reg were fucking kids who wanted to survive.” your voice broke, nevertheless, it didn’t stop you. “you didn’t even try to do something, save us, yet both of us were so fucking stupid defending you whenever someone brought you up. i broke lucius’ nose when he talked shit about you, but fucking evans is closer to being your sister than me, i’m so sick of it.” you couldn’t hold up your coldness, and calmness and you broke down within the end of the sentence, mascara smudged all over your cheeks as you cried while running out of the room.

you didn’t expect james to run down after you — you thought he’d stay with his friend, becuase there weren’t anyone you thought would run after you (excluding regulus, because he would jump into the flames with you). so when your boyfriend barged into the moaning myrtle’s bathroom you were shocked.

“baby…” he spoke out quietly, pulling you into a hug, gentle but tight. you didn’t even look at him, just cried your eyes out while breaking his heart by saying how tired you are of everything, and how you wanted sirius to be your brother again. a few kisses were planted on your hair as he tried to calm you down.

“jamie, please don’t leave me now.” you pulled away to look at him, eyes already red and swollen from tears. you weren’t used to show how vulnerable you were, and a thought of your boyfriend leaving you, because of it was so realistic in your head.

“what? why would i?” he knitted his eyebrows. “y/n, i love you and i know that deeply inside you care about what sirius think of you, but you have nothing to be sorry about, okay? with that said, i won’t leave you, never, okay?” you nodded lightly, resting your head on his shoulder.

“i love you too.” you whispered. “at least we don’t have to hide anymore, right?” a small smile painted on your lips upon your words.

“it’s us against the world right now, love.”

donate an esim for a coloured sketch!

hey guys!! im one of the artists for this round

click here for the full thread of the tutorials and how to request for a coloured sketch. help us spread the word! 🇵🇸🍉

I’ll be posting on Friday!! I just need to format the chapters for tumblr and they’ll be on their way :) I apologize for the long wait, I’ll be going on hiatus again soon because of finals and AP exams :( but I’ll be back by late May/early June. Thank you so much for you patience

— Emmy <3

(Senior year kinda sucks 🥲)

Edit: I got caught up with work n shit, I’ll post at 12 or 1 tomorrow (for sure)!! (05.10.24)

[ A LITTLE DEATH — FT. KINICH ]

synopsis: sometimes, he comes back to you with a beating heart. other times, his body is cold and limp until he reemerges from the flames. you never get used to kinich falling during the pilgrimage, but you’re certainly used to the feeling of his body

word count: 4.4k words of emotional porn. ty & goodnight

before you read: female reader ; major spoilers for natlan archon quest and kinich’s character story one ; kinich falls during the night warden war and resurrects so technical character death (but not for long) ; graphic descriptions of injuries and blood from war ; mentions of gambling, alcoholism and abuse (his father’s lore) ; slight exploration of mortality ; hand jobs ; orgasm delay (kinich to himself) ; cunnilingus ; fingering ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; not proof read because i wrote this all in tumblr drafts like the psycho i am

notes: this is an unhealthy progressing obsession. this boy is not good for my health unfortunately

“Will you stop crying?” He sighs softly, thumb tracing your cheek as it catches yet another rivulet of your sorrow.

You glare up at him, lips curled into a scowl as you sniffle and counter, “how about you stop dying?”

Kinich is no stranger to dying. He and death are good friends, in fact—he visits often, and in return, it houses him kindly for however short his visit may be.

He likes traversing the Night Kingdom, likes to speak to those who have borne his name before him. Dying isn’t so bad when you get a chance to see the things he does in the realm of the Wayob.

But you don’t like to see the aftermath. Blood. Bruises. Cuts. Gashes. Sometimes mangled limbs. Every time he falls in battle, the aftermath serves as a jarring reminder that revival is miracle you can’t take for granted.

Kinich doesn’t understand it, but he tries to. He holds you when he comes back, listening to you sniffle into his chest. He’s always silent as his hand rubs along your back, always unsure of what to say.

I lost you, you’ll always whisper first.

I was always going to come back, he’ll always respond.

The Pyro Archon, you think, loves fiercely enough to rival the God of Cryo herself. The Tsaritsa, God of Love, loves clearly. It’s delicate as it leaves chills, and yet, it is reserved, rare to find after she’s hardened herself. The God of War’s love takes form in the exact opposite. It’s blazing. Warm. Unrelenting. Irrevocably bright. It’s a flame that never dies out, that never needs a ceremony or ritual to keep burning like the contending fire.

She loves all of her children—you know that because you see it on her face, too.

The brief, fleeting flash of horror every time she sees a body. The bitter pride that comes with such a noble sacrifice. She loves her people, and that’s why, when your tears hit the ground as you cry for a fallen Kinich, she gives your hand a squeeze right before she brings enters the night kingdom to bring him back.

The people of Natlan are proud of their history. So much, that they find honor in dying for the cause.

You think you’re the only exception.

You and death are not good friends. You don’t like the way it mocks you with the limp hands of the boy you love and his beat-less heart. You don’t like the way it cozies up against him, dragging him away from you with its hand clasped firmly in his.

It never takes him away for too long before it gives him right back, but you don’t like sharing.

Not Kinich. Not with death.

Your broken out of your thoughts when his fingers gently press into your cheeks, squeezing them together as his hand tilts your head up from his chest to look into his eyes.

“I’m okay,” he insists bluntly, but never without that gentleness.

You’d laugh any other time. Always so straight to the point, you’d tease if it were some other day.

Instead, this time, you sniffle once more before you croak, “you don’t know what it’s like to witness.” Slowly, your hand creeps up his body, traveling over his abdomen before coming to a stop right over his heart. “This time…this time it was here.”

This pilgrimage, Kinich comes back to you with a stab through his heart. Other times, he’s returned pierced through his lungs from behind. Or perhaps with a bloodied head, split open by a blunt force.

It never gets easier. This time, however, you think it’s gotten even harder.

He’s quiet for a moment, like he’s contemplating what to say before he decides to toss the idea of words out entirely. Suddenly, his hands find your waist, flipping you to sit on his lower belly, legs straddling his hips.

Kinich isn’t always good with words. He can count on one hand the number of people he’s had in his life to love. His life has not been kind enough to him to allow keeping all fingers up at the same time.

One for his mother. Down.

One for his father. Down.

And one for you. Up.

He’s sure one day, he might be able to lift a finger for Mualani and Kachina, too. He cares a great deal about them, of course. But love is a difficult thing for him to grasp—perhaps because it’s always been something he never got in full.

Not until you.

More than most people, Kinich understands loss. You know that. He understands it too well, in fact. Sometimes, he wonders if he’d lost his father’s love long before the body was limp and lifeless to show for it. Sometimes, he wonders if his mother ever loved him enough to count as a loss at all. Maybe if she had, then she wouldn’t have walked away. Maybe she never loved him quite as much as she loved herself.

But you’re different for him. You love him more than you love anything else. More than yourself, too. He’s never been loved more than anything else. His father loved gambling, maybe even the burn of alcohol on his tongue, too. His mother loved freedom, and more than that, she loved the idea of living in the absence of fear. Neither loved him more than any of those things.

So, you’re different. You know that, too. You’re a loss he can’t comprehend. Not that he’s ever had to, of course, but his brain cannot handle the idea of being without you.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t fully understand your pain. Maybe that’s why he wonders why knowing he’ll always come back from falling isn’t enough to soothe you.

He’s never loved someone who he knew would come back even in the face of death. It’s a luxury, he thinks sometimes—you get to love him with the luxury of a safety net. But you’re too precious to feel the weight of a real loss. He hopes he can shield you from it for as long as he can, one pilgrimage at a time.

His hands settle for your hips, squeezing once, twice, a third time before he sits up and pulls you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

You kiss back easily. Drinking the breath straight from his mouth is best proof that he’s alive. You take it in greedily.

“I’m okay,” he repeats one more time. This time, it’s a much softer tone. Like a gentle reminder. Like a plead to understand.

His hand grabs yours, pressing it right over his heart so you can feel the erratic beating under your palm. Just from kissing you, it’s rapid enough that he almost feels he should be embarrassed. But you close your eyes and let out a shaky breath, making him watch you carefully as he takes in the relief in your face.

“You’re okay,” you nod slowly.

“I am,” he agrees.

You don’t know when it happens or who starts it first. One moment, your hand is traveling under his shirt to feel his bare skin, to have better contact with him so you can feel more proof he’s alive.

Warm skin. Flexing muscle. Damp sweat. When your hand finds his heart again, his hand cups the back of your head and pulls you into a heated kiss.

Clothes come off after that. It’s a blur. It’s not until you untie the bandana to uncover his forehead do you really take it all in.

Bare under you, Kinich is alive. The proof his body is breathing and pumping blood through his veins is right there before you—standing tall between his legs in the form of a flushed, red cock. Blood rushed there to prove his desire for you.

“Last time, it was here,” you whisper, thumb tracing a pale, faint scar over his ribcage, right where his lung is. “Did it hurt?”

“It did,” he nods, studying you as you don’t meet his eyes. “I don’t remember much of that, though.”

“Do you like it?” You whisper. “Is that why you do it?”

He’s silent. And then, quietly: “Sometimes.”

“Why?” You breathe, cupping his cheeks as you search his eyes for an answer.

Finally, in a rare moment, he chuckles. “Because it’s good to remember I’m alive,” he murmurs, “right before you die is when you realize you’re alive the most. Why you’re alive, too.”

“I don’t understand,” you furrow your brows in frustration. He smiles fondly, kissing your jaw as he lets out a low hum.

“I think of you,” he whispers, sucking sweetly into your skin, “and then I remember how you’re alive, too. Every time I die, you get to stay alive a little more.”

The abyss never goes away. Now, more than ever, he’s aware of that. It’s a war he has to see the winning side of, no matter the price.

There’s a loss this time that he’s unwilling to pay. Can’t bear to witness. Can’t allow to happen.

You decide you give up trying to understand—much like you do every year. Instead, you throw yourself into feeling him, pulling him into a heated, deeper kiss as your tongue glides against his. You give into the battle fast, letting him take the lead and taste you.

You’re not one for battles, not like Kinich is. You’d rather relish in peace than remember the cruelties of war.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips. “I can’t lose you.”

“You’ve never lost me,” he argues.

“It doesn’t feel that way,” you admit quietly.

“Then let me show you I’ve always been right here.”

As if on cue, his cock twitches between your bodies, hot and throbbing as it presses against your lower belly. You reach between your bodies, wrapping around the thick girth before your thumb grazes the tip.

He shudders, stifling a groan as you slowly smear the dribbling pre cum along his length, taking gentle care to make sure you don’t hurt him.

You’ve seen Kinich hurt enough times.

“Does that feel good?” You grin slightly, watching his eyes flutter shut as you stroke him up and down, fisting around him in a tight squeeze.

“Feels great,” he breathes, “like I’m very alive.”

“Good,” you nod.

“Fuck,” he chokes when you squeeze around the tip, pace quickening as you glide your palm up and down along him faster.

Faster.

The faster he cums, the faster you’re proven he’s living once more.

But he stops you—right before he can spill into your hand, a shaky wrist comes to force yours to stop moving. You look at him questioningly, and he closes his eyes and takes labored breaths to calm himself from the slow, fading orgasm that would’ve shaken through his body.

“What are you—oh,” you gasp, when your body is flipped to lay on your back, Kinich hovering above you as he stares down at you.

You think love is the look in his eyes when he sees you like this, every time. That longing in his pupils, desperate and almost pained even though you’re right there.

Loving something is always a double edged sword. It hurts just as much as it heals—the scabs forming around your heart from his temporary departure is proof of that.

“I love you,” he whispers, kissing along your neck.

I love you isn’t something Kinich says often. You feel his love in other ways. The fresh fruit he brings you on his way back from a commission. The small kiss between your brows he always greets you with, and the delicate kiss to your mouth when he leaves. The hand on the small of your back as he guides you along places, never letting you feel his absence. The pillow he shares with you every night when you invade his space and take up his side of the bed.

You know he loves you. Being reminded is a good feeling, though. Your body shivers as you feel a familiar ache building up between your legs at his sudden confession.

“More than anything?” You ask.

“Yes,” he responds, amused.

“You better not be lying,” you warn playfully.

He chuckles—you’re slowly coming back to your usual self. Causal teasing and playful flirting. You’re all the things he’s not. Open. Vulnerable. So inexplicably bright. You smile and something in him heals. Something in him itches to do better—be better.

“When have I ever lied to you?” He challenges.

You pretend to think for a moment before caving and stretching your lips into a wide grin. The first real smile of the night. You pull him close, kissing him again. Just to kiss him. There’s no heat or desire this time around.

He kisses back sweetly. Just to kiss you.

“What did you see this time?” You whisper when you pull away. “In the Night Kingdom.”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, tracing shapes into your hip with his thumb, “I think I was too busy thinking of you.”

Kinich is only flirty when he avoids something. He’s only ever indirect when he doesn’t want you to know something. It takes form in less honest, more playful banter that he learns from you.

You sigh, rolling your eyes half-heartedly as you whisper, “don’t lie to me.”

“I did think of you,” he insists. “It’s not a lie. I always think of you.”

He decided to prove it by dropping down to busy himself between your legs, gently spreading them enough to press his nose against your clit as he breathes you in.

Sweet. You’re always sweet. You taste and smell it. You drip of honeyed, saccharine desire. When his tongue presses between your folds, he thinks he’s dipping it in gold.

“K-kinich, wait—”

“You say that every time,” he raises a smug brow. His fingers press into you, spreading you open as he inspects your fluttering walls. “But you never mean it, do you?”

Filthy, you think. He’s got an air of pure obscenity to him that you’re sure comes only when he’s tired of feeling alone. When he needs to know you’re here for good and not just for the moment.

“You play dirty,” you scowl, twitching when his tongue swirls over your clit, the smooth rumble of his chuckle vibrating against the sensitive bud. His fingers curl into you, pressing against a very delicate, very responsive spot in the back of your walls.

“Is that so?” He drawls, “you don’t exactly seem to mind it,” he murmurs.

And then his lips wrap around your clit, sucking as his tongue rolls in circles against it as you writhe. You can feel the tips of his digits bully into that same spot over and over, making your back arch as you whine.

“Fuck,” you breathe, “baby, please.”

You don’t know what you’re pleading for. He’s giving you what you want exactly how you want it—maybe that’s why you always say it, though. So you can never stop having him. Asking and asking and hoping he’ll give you everything without pausing.

He does, too. Kinich never gives half of himself into anything. For the right price, you get all of him. You pay the price in gentle kisses along his cheek and soft fingertips in his hair. In a warm lap under his cheek when he’s tired and a soft voice to remind him he’s not alone. In a worried look every time he’s scuffed and a soft smile every time your eyes meet his.

You pay the price of your love, and he compensates you with the reward of his. It’s a fair trade.

The only difference is that unlike his other deals, Kinich would still pay his love to you even if you stopped paying yours. He couldn’t stop if he tried. It’s an exception he doesn’t exactly choose to make, but doesn’t necessarily want to change, either.

Lucky for him, you don’t show any signs of pulling away.

“You’re beautiful,” he says quietly, whispering the words into your cunt like he’s speaking directly to your desire, “and mine.”

“G-gods,” you moan, hand flying to grasp at his hair and tug as his fingers quicken their pace, fucking into your heat mercilessly as his tongue rolls over your clit.

It’s hot. It always is in the Pyro Nation. But hotter is the growing desire in the pit of your belly, and the heat between your legs that only one person can ignite. The flames lick at your sanity before something erupts in your system and all you feel is a gush of pure, white hot pleasure.

“That’s it,” he praises, working you through your orgasm as you let out a soft cry of his name.

Kinich is alive. You know that because only he could make you feel this way, and he is. He’s making you feel like there’s love between your legs as he coaxes the height of pleasure from you, buried into the apex of your thighs like it’s the only place he ever wants to be. You’re reminded that instead of blood dripping from his fingertips, it’s the essence of your arousal.

You’re reminded that when you need him, he’s never not there. Never leaving you behind from this world into another.

“I love you,” you blurt out in a post-orgasm haze.

He looks up at you with a toothy grin. It’s so rare to see him smile so freely. It’s like a child’s, sometimes. Something youthful and joyful and almost innocent enough that it makes your heart ache a little more than it does feel full.

Only a little, though.

“You say that a lot when I make you cum,” he laughs smoothly, a boyish and sweet little sound. You huff with a roll of your eyes.

“You do too,” you counter. “Maybe we only love each other when we feel good.”

“I always feel good with you,” he grins.

“I can make you feel a whole lot better,” you wink, wriggling your brows in a playful, tempting offer.

He takes it. With another soft laugh, he climbs up your body to hover his face over yours, admiring the sweat clinging to your forehead like it’s proof of his good work.

“Go on then,” he whispers. “Make me feel better. I just died today, you know.”

“I know,” you grumble only slightly, “I remember that very clearly. It was very rude of you.”

“My sincerest apologies,” he offers.

When Kinich was young, love was transactional. His father loved him with a box of sweets when a gamble of wages doubled. His mother was happy enough to afford him her gaze when there were flowers in the vase. He knew from early on not to expect any of it unless the proper price was offered.

And then he learned necessities were transactional, too. To exist is to pay a price. He watched as strangers took away his home, the remainder of his family’s belongings packed away as his mother wiped her tears. Food is not free when she is not there to tend to crops. Clothes don’t come easy when your father spends his days drinking away instead of working.

Without mora, you survive more than you live.

He hated it. Hated not having enough. Not being enough. He wasn’t enough to make his father want to be good and he wasn’t enough to make his mother want to stay. Didn’t have enough to offer for something as simple as unconditional love.

Love with you feels a lot different than what he’s grown up learning. You love him even when he’s closed off and a little cold. When his blunt words are a little too blunt and his words press hard into you with force. When he’s tired, and can’t offer you proper company, you love him, too. When he’s gone for days at a time for a commission further away, you still love him as you wait.

It’s always enough for you even when what he gives really isn’t enough at all.

He stopped trying to understand a long time ago. He’s still human—not everything can make sense with the logic of equal transaction. Sometimes, he just wants. Sometimes, he can’t give enough for what he wants. You always give it, though.

He’s stopped trying to make sense of it all for the sake of finally knowing joy. Peace. Possibly even comfort.

“Why do you love me?” He asks softly, rubbing the tip of his hard cock against your thigh. You rub along his bare back with a gentle hand, feeling the goosebumps raise along his skin under your palm.

“Because it’s easy to,” you answer.

“That’s it?”

“Isn’t life hard enough?” You shrug, “it’s nice having something simple. Loving you is easy, and that’s enough.”

“I don’t understand,” he mirrors your words from earlier. “But as long as you don’t stop, I think it’s okay.”

You want to tell him you’ll never stop loving. Every flame in Natlan will have to burn out before you stop loving Kinich. You’re confident that it’s impossible that will ever happen. But instead of words, you gently reach between your bodies to grab at his cock—it’s been hard and neglected for long enough that he lets out a soft, needy sound at the sudden touch.

You bring him to brush against your entrance, murmuring a soft, “I want you,” before he groans in response.

“Fuck,” he says shakily, “me too.”

And then, finally, he presses his tip into you, pushing past your folds and nudging into the deepest part of you.

He’s alive. You know that because you can feel him in the most rawest, purest way. Bare skin to skin. Warmth on warmth. Sweat against sweat. Body tangled into body. He’s alive and here and you can feel all of him at once.

He’s everywhere. He’s in your lungs as you kiss him and steal his breath. He’s in your heart as you feel it skip a beat for him. He’s in your soul as it burns at the very idea of him. And he’s in your cunt as he presses himself into you with a roll of his hips.

You love him when he’s alive.

You love him when he’s dead.

You love him when he’s resurrected.

You love him when he’s yours like this.

“Kinich,” you gasp, letting out a breathless moan as his tip slams into that spongy spot in your walls, “there—y-yes, like that.”

“I know,” he murmurs, grinning a little smugly enough that you feel embarrassed to already be this fallen apart. “I know exactly where.”

“Smooth talker for someone who ruined my whole day,” you huff.

“I told you I’m okay,” he grunts lowly. He kisses your throat, right over your pulse as he whispers, “I’m right here.” You whine as he rolls his hips particularly harshly to slam his cock into your most delicate spot.

“Knowing something is coming back doesn’t mean you like losing it,” you argue. “I don’t want you anywhere but here.” He gasps when your legs wrap around his waist and pull him closer as you squeeze tighter around him.

You hate seeing Kinich fall because you’re reminded it’ll happen one day for real. There’ll come a time where he won’t be resurrected. You don’t like being reminded of this simple truth.

He doesn’t understand it because he’s always too busy denying your fall. He’s too busy making sure he fights every battle to win this war so you can live beside him. So you don’t have to succumb to the cruel likes of the abyss.

Neither of you can seem to grasp the other’s mortality very well. So you try to forget in the feeling of being lost in each other’s bodies. Where proof of life blooms in every inch of skin. Every labored breath and drop of sweat, every flex of muscle and rapid thrum of a heart.

You’re alive, and so is Kinich.

He’s not alone, and neither are you.

No one has had to bear a loss, and that’s all that matters. For now, at least.

“You feel so good,” he says hoarsely, letting out a soft, low whine when your walls flutter around him at the praise. “C-can’t…can’t live without you.”

“Don’t say that,” you sob, reaching your limit, “enough talk about living. I’m tired of it.”

“Okay,” he breathes, “then just cum again for me. I want to feel you do it around me this time.”

Your second orgasm makes you forget Kinich is alive. You’re too busy feeling the rush of life yourself. Your body burns with pleasure through every nerve, the familiar snap of pressure between your legs that has your entire form spasming under Kinich.

“’M c-cumming,” you sob, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a sloppy kiss, muffling your sounds into his mouth as he swallows them whole.

“For me,” he hums.

“F-for you. Always for you.”

And then he cums too. Hard. For the last time, you’re hit with the evidence that he’s here with you and not somewhere else. Somewhere unreachable. Somewhere in a world apart from you.

He’s spilling warm, sticky cum into your walls with shaky arms holding him up above you, desperate rolls of his hips as he lets out choked sounds.

Skin slaps against skin and a combination of your arousals leaves a mess smeared between your legs, spilling down your inner thighs.

“Fuck—ngh. I’m…I’m…” he trails off.

He’s never been good with words like you. So instead, he buries his head into your neck and presses his nose into your skin, letting you cradle the back to his head so he knows you’re there.

“I know,” you pant, letting him fuck himself into you and ride out the high of his orgasm.

I know you need me. I need you too.

When he slumps over your body, you can feel his heart beat against yours. Rapid. Erratic. Harsh. Pounding. All of it is proof you’re both painfully mortal as you are alive.

“I love you,” you both whisper at the same time, utterly spent.

“You’re alive,” you breathe out a sigh of relief as your eyes close tiredly.

He hums, lifting his head to press a soft peck to your lips before he slumps into your neck against. “And so are you,” he murmurs in exhaustion.

You both fall asleep together with another year behind you.

Writing an emotional Kinich is actually really hard I’m not sure I even got it right bc we haven’t seen nearly enough of him but 😭 I hope this was not ooc enough that it was slightly believable. IDK I had a hard time deciding how he’d be in an emotionally charged moment of intimacy

Congratulations on reaching 4000!! I read your TG Drabbles and absolutely fell in love with your writing so I was wondering if I could get prompt 24 + Urie 💕💕 fem! Ghoul reader x quinx member Urie!! Thank you :)

# tags: scenario; kinda enemies/lovers and current relationship; light romance; drama; angst; ghoul!reader & quinx!kuki; crying, vomit and blood mention; dead body; kinda ooc!kuki (but not much); suggestive

includes: female reader ft. kuki urie {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hi! thank you very much for this request! i really like kuki and i am really happy that i can write about him! love u

24. “I’m a monster! Can’t you see it?!”

Your blood-stained long T-shirt, tears on your cheeks flushed with heat, a few strands of hair on the dirty floor, and the fear in your eyes seemed to the young Inspector an image that was downright terrifying, even nightmarish; however, not because of your appearance and the look of the room you both were in, but because of how scared and sad you were at that time. How much your eyes shone with self-loathing and how damned deep down you wanted to disappear and never be born.

“I’m a monster! Can’t you see it?!”

Of course he knew you were a ghoul. The walking grotesque, his enemy, the walking death, humanity’s greatest failure. A abominable monster.

He knew and watched you for months, studying your whole body and your behavior – he believed that he would eventually find a magical solution that would restore your humanity. He has kept you as a secret for a long time from the rest of his co-workers, from his command and from his own family. Although he knew every day that you could attack him, he bravely endured your outbursts of aggression and murderous desire, insatiable anger.

He was there when you vomited trying to eat a tomato and cheese sandwich, he was there when you cried into his shoulder, begging him to kill you, and he was there when you felt too human, wishing he would love you and stay with you for ever. He was in your worst and nastiest moments, but he was also next to you when you smiled slightly as you laid the last wild draw four card on the table and shouted a loud, almost carefree ‘Uno!’. He was always there and will always be.

It was hard for him to bear the sight of your hands in the dark liquid, your torn clothes and the traces of murder that were right under his feet. You killed an innocent woman who got a promotion in the family business two days ago. You killed a person who probably had a family who loved her, children who had to be kissed before bed, or even a dog who was eagerly waiting for her to put some of his favorite food in his bowl. You ate half of her firm, sweet flesh with tears in your eyes, and when Kuki caught you in the act, you nearly ripped out your own windpipe to relieve your own suffering. If there’s one thing you hated, it was definitely being a ghoul.

The silence between you two was interrupted only by your painful crying and the sound of cars driving down the street a few floors below. You looked alternately at the dead headless woman and at the man you loved, once again begging him to finally kill you. Of course, he didn’t do it that night, nor when you begged him to do the same three days later, clutching his shirt in a tight grip; behind you lay the lower limb of some five years old child.

It was hard for both of you to live with the thought that you loved a human and he loved a being he should have killed the first time he discovered your true colors. But he couldn’t do that. He just couldn’t.

You were both weak and pathetic.

please rb when u see this!

many palestinians have asked me to donate and share their gofundme links. most are still far from their goals so please donate if u can ♡

last updated 8/12/25

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Y’all need to read the full things. This is scrump-dilly-itious

My Atlantis, We Fall | Part 2

Part 1 here.

Summary: A childhood friendship between Viktor and you grow into unspoken love, but your paths diverge when Viktor left you behind. Still heartbroken, you unexpectedly reunite during Progress Day after years, only to cause more heartbreak.

Pairing: Viktor Arcane X Female Reader, she/her pronouns

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST, alcohol, mentions of blood, no mentions of Y/N.

Words: 5.1k

A/N: I am so mad at them both in this. Also, that first photo does something to me oh lord 😩 Thank you so much for reading the first part! Don’t forget to like, comment, or reblog. Anything helps a lot <3 WILL POST THE FINAL CHAPTER LATER!

Keep reading

Y’all I will most likely update on Monday. This month is not it for me. (I’m finishing up written assignments on Apex.. might be 18 or so 😭😭. Shits eating me up. And it’s gotta be done by tomorrow at 11:59. Then Saturday I have to go to a baby shower. The 25th is my grad. I hate myself 💀). Btw this is all on me, not blaming anyone but myself 🙈

Ps. txt concert was so amazing 😭😭

AHHH so amazing!!!!

Memory

(ID: sequential art

image 1: A wide shot of a chaotic room of people from the fire nation, water tribes, and earth kingdom gathered around a table that Zuko sits at the head of, the meeting is interrupted by a group of people waving banners bearing the symbol of Phoenix King Ozai.

image 2: back view of a lighting bender conjuring lightning to strike Zuko, who sits on the far side of the table.

image 3: Sokka grabbing the lightning bender’s arm and restrains him before he can finish bending, the bender has the symbol of Phoenix King Ozai on his arm.

image 4: Zuko in profile, hands clutched to chest in fear.

image 5: a close up of Azula smiling while she lighting bends.

end ID)